


Know Your Heart, Know Your Mind

by FitForAKing



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, George POV, George is oblivious, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mind Reading, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FitForAKing/pseuds/FitForAKing
Summary: George's life was... different. He would personally describe it as "completely fucking mental", but he usually settled for "fine, how about yours?". It's how he had lived for the last 24 rotations around the sun, anyway, and it obviously wasn't changing any time soon.And that's the funny bit. It was normal, his own normal. Which meant nothing, really, when normal doesn't mean answering someone's questions before they can open their mouth.------------------------------Or, the fic where George can read mindsAt least they were 7,000 km apart, right?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 57
Kudos: 275





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This will be my first official fanfic, as well as my first time writing this specific pairing. You all know the drill; If either CC states that they are no longer comfortable with this sort of content I will happily take this down. I would appreciate not having this leaked to them as well, so lets keep it between us all! 
> 
> This sort of AU has been running through my mind for the last few weeks and I really wanted to get it down before I backed out. This is also a canon divergent fic, so neither Dream nor George have seen each other yet and their channels have just recently blown up. A little awkward, I know, but it's personally how I want the fic to work :)
> 
> Comments and likes are always appreciated!! Enjoy!

George's life was... different. He would personally describe it as "completely fucking mental", but he usually settled for "fine, how about yours?". It's how he had lived for the last 24 rotations around the sun, anyway, and it obviously wasn't changing any time soon. 

And that's the funny bit. It was _normal_ , his own normal. Which meant nothing, really, when normal doesn't mean answering someone's questions before they can open their mouth.

It became abundantly clear to him once he hit about 5, when he started responding to the unfiltered voices of his parents or asking questions on topics he was confused about. George figured out quite abruptly that something was wrong judging by their anxious expressions, the way their rampant thoughts overflowed in his mind. He had remained quiet for a long time after those interactions, nervous when he heard his mother speak but never saw her lips move. George quickly learned that this was different, something wrong. 

George felt overwhelmed by the constant barrage of information he was dumped with daily. The other kids' loud and chaotic thoughts made his head hurt and kept him from being present in classes. He had been to so many parent-teacher meetings about his performance in classes that he lost count. He could hear his teachers' sweet words as they spoke to his parents but felt annoyance bubbling under the surface from the same adult. It made him feel worse. 

He began socializing less, making few friends throughout primary school. He could hear their thoughts about him, curious about his behavior or simply weirded out by his quiet nature. It made him sick to his stomach to hear his classmates judge him for something completely out of his control, something he couldn't fix or simply ignore. 

By age 11, George had taught himself to barricade his mind, keeping others rampant thoughts out so he could focus on his own. It wasn't perfect, but George could feel the thoughts around him blur and become muted as though he was underwater. It felt so... quiet. So _peaceful_. George was elated the first afternoon that he managed to walk into his kitchen bustling with activity from his mother and father and hear nothing but his own nervous thoughts as those barricades held. He talked more than he had in months just to hear their solo voices, accompanied by nothing but silence. It was the happiest he had been in forever.

That night he threw up in his bathroom toilet, the pressure in his head giving way to the most brutal headache of his life. 

Since then George had to navigate and figure out his limits. In Year 12 when George got dragged to a pub by his older friends after a boisterous dinner at a cheap hole-in-the-wall diner, he could practically feel the barriers in his mind being pounded on and torn down, plank by plank cracking under pressure. He had learned to fortify and strengthen those walls over years of constant practice, but he knew to come up with an excuse to decline any further partying for the night, wanting to save himself from the blinding headache he knew would be result. He was nervous around new people and had issues socializing, anyway, and though he hated to do it he tended to use it as his excuse to get out of these situations. His friends always seemed to understand and waved him off kindly, but it always stung when a burst of irritation poked through his barriers, knowingly directed at him.

George met Dream on a Minecraft admin message board when he was in Uni, the purpose of the board being a place for admins to discuss coding projects for future minigame mechanics or some new neat features for the lobby. George had been instantly drawn to Dream when he first began talking at lengths about projects he was working on. George could tell how passionate he was about his work, and it gave him the courage to offer a partnership between the two of them to start working as an unofficial team. Dream's background in coding and his crude sarcastic personality giving him someone to discuss passion projects as well as banter with, the two boys becoming fast friends.

George couldn't describe how he felt about every interaction he had with the other. He had never really had online friends, but he never realized the benefits that went with having friends you didn't need to see in person. George never had to put up a barrier or double check that the other had actually spoken to him by reading his face. It made George that much more excited to talk to the other boy as he threw his headphones on and pressed 'Accept Call' on discord. It was relieving and wonderful and so damn perfect.

George met Sapnap through Dream, and the three had dubbed themselves "The Dream Team". George had never realized how much online friends kept his mind at ease, never needing to force his walls up when they were recording or even during their late night calls. Keeping the barriers up when he was tired was the most challenging bit of it all, and he was grateful that he never had to overexert himself around the boys he cared about. 

Then his YouTube career blew up. Well, their YouTube careers blew up. Although Dream's had taken off at a much higher speed than George's, Dream was there every video to shout him out and talk to all of his fans about his appreciation for him. George could thank the boy one thousand times over and wouldn't think it would ever be enough. George never considered himself good with words, but he could show Dream how much he cared. He dove headfirst into countless hours of frustrating coding for dozens of challenges the two could record together, wanting to badly for Dream to succeed in his career path. George hoped it was enough to get his point across. 

The recognition George was getting led to his comment sections blowing up with requests for a face reveal and possible livestreams for his viewers to enjoy. These were a shock to George, who had never considered the possibility of stepping out of anonymity. However, George never considered his channel would ever spark into something as big as it had, subscriber count climbing higher each day. It filled him with anxiety, but he decided to weigh the pros and cons with Dream on their Discord.

"Is it something you'd be comfortable doing? Once you're out there once people will be begging for it forever. You have to be prepared to keep it up." Dream's new mic allowed his voice to come in much more crisp than in the past, his morning voice gravelly and riddled with yawns. George cleared his throat and readjusted his sweatshirt, pulling on the drawstrings. 

"I mean, I had never really thought about it in the past. I didn't really see my channel blowing up like it did. At least not so quickly. But," He continued, pausing for a moment. He heard Dream shuffle in his chair, the springs squeaking slightly. Dream was focused on him.  
"I think... it would really benefit my channel. People always like a face to a brand."  
George got a hum as an answer, knowing Dream wouldn't budge in his proclamation of anonymity. 

George had never been upset that Dream wanted to keep his own face a secret to his audience. Even if he seemed open to most things and didn't worry about what others thought of his talents or ideas, he liked keeping his personal life separate from his work life, which is something George could completely identify with. However, he had always felt a little sore over the fact that he had never seen Dream. Not that it was important, really, and of course why would Dream show George his face when George had never offered to show his own? 

He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, suddenly feeling anxious. Dream could pick up on it immediately. It was easy to learn how each other was feeling when they only communicated vocally. 

"I feel a 'but' in that answer."

No use hiding it, really. His pulse jumped lightly but he cleared his throat.

"It's just... I don't know. I guess I'm nervous because I don't know what their reactions will be."

"What, you think they'll think you're ugly?"

"Something like that, yeah." 

Dream's soft laughter filled his headphones and he couldn't help but smile. His laughs, from his soft chuckles in between sentences to his obnoxious wheezing, were infectious, and this one was no different. 

"George, I highly doubt that." George rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Right, like you would know." 

"What, you think I'd lie about something like this? There's no way you aren't incredibly handsome."

"You're so annoying," George said, but he felt a strange muddled feeling in his head and he shifted in his chair. 

"George, I'm serious. If your accent is any indicator of your looks, you gotta be pretty sexy." 

"Dream, oh my god, _chill_. I am definitely not sexy." 

"Prove it." 

George's laugh got stuck in his throat as his eyes flicked up to his profile image, then over to Dream's. He swallowed thickly, feeling heat creep up his neck. Dream was asking him to... 

George realized he hadn't said anything back, and quickly he choked out a quiet "what?"

Dream's voice was low and it ran a shiver down George's spine. 

"Prove it to me, George." 

Something in George's mind began to swim, and George fortified it instinctively. Thoughts or emotions were floating around him and thankfully he closed himself up before he heard something he didn't need to. He craned his neck to listen for someone outside of his apartment and heard footsteps of a group walking down the halls, probably a family, the voice of a young girl ringing out as she giggled about something trivial. George let out a nervous sigh, turning back to the conversation at hand. 

"George?" Dream asked, and George could hear hesitance in his voice. 

"You want to- you want to see me?" He finally responded, his hands trembling slightly. Why was he nervous? This was Dream, his best friend. There was nothing to be nervous about, but even so he absentmindedly brushed a hand through his hair, combing it to look presentable.

"Of course I do, George, if you'd like to show me."

Dream voice was gentle and George's heart went aflame. He was giving him the option of backing out if he wasn't comfortable. They had never seen each other, and Dream was okay with keeping it that way if George was uncomfortable. George felt so lucky to have such a caring friend, who wanted nothing more than to have George as comfortable as possible. He cleared his throat, trying to sound as level as he could muster.

"If I can't even show my friend my own face then how could I in front of thousands of strangers, right?" Dream's laugh filled the silence. 

"Exactly. Think of this as practice." 

Right. Practice. He could do this. 

Before he could let himself overthink it he forced his mouse to hover over 'Start Video' and clicked it, the screen buffering for a moment before Dream's icon took up the majority of the screen. George froze as his live feed, tucked neatly in the corner of the screen, displayed himself from the middle of his chest up to an inch passed his headphones. He could hear Dream's breath hitch and he flushed, turning away and grabbing his sweatshirt strings to twist in his fingers. He almost laughed at how ridiculous this was. 

"George." Dream sounded breathless, and George snapped his eyes back up to the screen in front of him. He let his eyes flick to himself, feel self conscious all of a sudden, seeing a beet-red and embarrassed George staring back, lips parted slightly. He shut his mouth and turned his attention to Dream's icon. 

"That bad huh?" He tried to joke, hoping the nervous laugh he let out sounded playful. Here he was, out on display for Dream to see, and George had no idea what Dream could be thinking. 

"George... when were going to tell me you were so _hot_."

Well, whatever George thought Dream was thinking, it definitely wasn't that.

He dropped his reddened face into his hand, his elbow balanced on the desk in front of him. He let out another laugh, his throat bubbling with something giddy and unfamiliar as he let it out. 

"Dream, stop."

George could practically hear the other boy's cackle from across 6.995 kilometres, echoing in his head and causing George to chuckle to himself. Dream was being an absolute _idiot_. 

"You're laughing at me." He started, and Dream tried stifling the laughter.

"No, no, just... I didn't realized you got flustered so easily." George rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, relaxing slightly. But he turned away from the screen, like it made Dream's known staring any less imposing. 

"Fuck off, Dream." 

"Language, George! I'm telling Bad." They laughed and George felt his nervousness dissipate a bit. He needed to get over himself. They were friends; this should've happened a long time ago. 

"In all seriousness, George, you'll have nothing to worry about. I'm sure there will be plenty of people 'simping' for you as soon as your camera turns on." George scoffed and looked back at the screen. Dream continued his train of thought.

"Let me know when you wanna do your first livestream and I can make time to join. What's your plan? Did you wanna do some challenges?" 

George pondered this, thinking of the logistics or the practicality of doing challenges through streams. He ultimately shook his head. 

"I think that if this livestreaming is going to become a regular occurrence it should be something new. Doing challenge streams could mean fewer viewers on our channels since they'll be expecting them on live, you know? Maybe..." He trailed off, trying to think of something interesting. "I mean... we could just do a survival world? Like, a server for us and Sapnap or anyone else to join and play on." 

Dream was silent for a moment, but his response held a smile. "That... sounds perfect George." George smiled for a moment before shaking his head in a way that exuded a snarky and air-headed tone. 

"Obviously it does. It was my idea." Dream laughed hard and George giggled, readjusting his mic.

"Thanks, Dream. I don't know why I was so nervous to do this."

"Because my opinion is so important to you." 

George shook his head put on an unamused stare. _Idiot_. "Sure." 

"The important thing here is that I was correct. As always." Dream's voice was dripping with smugness, and George wanted to end that as soon as possible. 

"Don't be stupid. Anyways, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that. I'll leak to twitter that you're simping for me."

"Maybe I am, George." He said with a smirk. "With all this blushing, though, I'd think it was the other way around." 

Damn himself for thinking he could get the upper hand on this conversation. Dream was excellent at dishing it out. George... not so much. 

"This- this isn't fair," George spluttered, embarrassed. "You can see me. Clearly you have an advantage." Dream laughed lightly, leaning slightly away from his microphone. George allowed himself to ponder what Dream looked like when he laughed, wondering if his eyes crinkled at the corners, if he covered his mouth slightly with the back of his hand. 

"Clearly." Dream went quiet after that. George dropped his head to look at his fidgeting hands, nervous again but thankfully less so than earlier.

"I think livestreaming is an excellent idea, George. Go for it." George smiled.

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I will. It'll benefit both of us anyways." Dream seemed satisfied with the answer as George heard him groan through a stretch. 

"It'll definitely benefit me. Now people will get to see just how embarrassed you get when I tease you." George planted both of his hands on his face, covering his redness. The heat on his neck had crept its way up to his cheeks and he felt like he was on fire. _Jesus, Dream..._

"Dream, please, I can't take much more of this." Dream laughed, loud and bright. 

"Alright, alright, I cease my teasing... for now." George wasn't sure if he regretted this whole thing or not, but he was happy despite the burning sensation under his skin. He felt happy and relieved that this step had been taken.

"I should probably head to bed." Dream hummed in agreement. 

"Same here. I haven't finished that code for the 'Random Health' challenge, but I will have it done before tomorrow night, I swear." George waved him off, offhandedly wondering how he would get used to actually physically expressing his feelings or thoughts. He'd have to get used to that pretty quickly, otherwise it'd be a pretty boring face-cam.

"Don't worry too much about it, bigshot. I know you're busy with your collabs and other recording sessions." Dream sighed. 

"I know, but this is more important to me. I promise you, it'll be done by tomorrow night." 

George felt a swell of affection for the man across the screen as well as an open opportunity to tease Dream. He opened his mouth to speak, a chuckle falling out before he quickly composed himself. "Wow, Dream. I didn't realize I was so important to you." George placed a hand over his heart and dropped his head to the side lazily. Dream was silent. 

"Of course you are, George. I love you too much for any of that other shit to be my priority."

George's head started to spin again and he was too late putting up his walls, a wave of nausea churning in his stomach. A phrase laced with flowering blooms of fondness hit him like a truck, causing his heart to shoot into his throat. 

_**How could I not?** _

George needed to turn his camera off. _Now_.

He had never in his life heard a thought sound so sweet and so gentle- had never felt an emotion that powerful. The sentence was enveloped with affection, dripping adoration and euphoria like nothing he had ever felt before. Even when he was young and clumsy with his barriers he hadn't been hit that hard. It was dizzying and foreign and _scary_.

"George? What's wrong? Are you okay?" 

The phrase in his mind turned sour and George wasn't sure he could take it any longer.

"I- I gotta go, Dream."

"oh, goodnight Geo-" George hung up before Dream could finish his sentence. 

George spent the next half hour curled up on his comforter, cradling his stomach slightly as he tried to decipher the powerful emotion he had been struck with. His first impression of the intrusive thought was that the thought itself hitting him hadn't been what made him nauseous. It took him a moment to realize this, but he understood it after mulling it over. It had been the abruptness of its entrance, the unannounced attack of an emotion he didn't comprehend. That may have been it- the raw power behind it had been something he had never felt before. Not that he had never held affection for anyone, obviously; he had a handful of people in his life he held admiration for, and even had a few crushes through secondary school. No, it wasn't that the emotion itself was unknown. It was its unflinching rigidness, its power that didn't feel shy or nervous. It was definitely strong, something that wasn't going away soon. 

George, secondly, began pondering who in his apartment complex could feel something so... goddamn _powerful_. 

Instantly a reason formed in his mind and he groaned, slapping a hand across his face. _Of course_ , he thought, feeling his face flush. Someone nearby was... definitely having a great time right now. No wonder it was so powerful, so... 

He really hated this stupid, trivial gift. It really made him feel like a creep sometimes. 

He exhaled shakily and readjusted himself so he was sitting up against his headboard. He was exhausted and frustration was slowly bubbling in the back of his mind. He couldn't even escape and relax in his own damn apartment. This whole thing was driving him insane. _Why do_ I _have to deal with this bullshit?_

His thoughts crept back to Dream, and how abruptly he had left their call. He felt bad leaving like that, but he couldn't have that passion sitting in his mind like a rock while talking to his friend. It was overwhelming, and he did the only thing he knew to do in that situation; leave as quick as possible. 

His phone buzzed on his desk and George dragged himself up to retrieve it, falling back onto his bed with a thud. A message from Dream read:

_Dream: i hope i didn't scare you off_

George typed out a quick reply.

_no it wasn't you_

_my cat threw up dangerously close to my computer_

George felt bad lying, but, logistically, there really wasn't a way to say _oh, I read my neighbors thoughts while they were boning and I went into shock lol_

_Dream: oh no! i hope everything's okay_

_its fine now, it was fucking gross though_

_Dream: you're telling me, Patches has decided that when she throws up she has to walk all the way to my bathroom and do it on my bathmat_

_yikes_

_Dream: it's a living :/_

George ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it to try and rub the headphone imprint out. He couldn't believe Dream had seen his face now. It made a smile tug at the ends of his lips, one that he tried and failed to stifle. 

_well, i hope you're happy now_

_i am no longer a disembodied voice_

Dream began to type out a response, the three little dots bouncing for a moment before disappearing, then reappearing moments later. It took him a moment to get back to George. 

_Dream: and you couldn't even prove me wrong_

_you're being an idiot_

_Dream: I only speak the truth, George. I knew you'd be handsome :)_

George's heart flickered, feeling heat creep up his neck and down his collarbone. 

_shut up_

_Dream: why? you blushing again?_

George's fingers hovered over his keyboard as his mild stilted. He wasn't sure how to move forward. 

Dream began typing another message, the bubbles sitting on screen for far longer than George expected.

_Dream: called it_

George wanted to toss his phone, but decided ending the conversation was better than a cracked screen.

_goodnight dream_

Once again the bubbles appeared and disappeared, popping back up before a short reply came through.

_Dream: night Georgie <3_

George shut off his phone and tossed it down next to him, exhaustion finally setting in in the early hours of the morning. His conversation with Dream had been better than he'd expected. Dream knew his face, what his side profile looked like, how his pale skin flushed at the slightest praise. It was overwhelming and nerve-racking and he was really being an entire idiot about it. Dream was George's friend, the closest person to him while being thousands of kilometres away, allowing him to relax and enjoy his company. He was so appreciative of everything they had together. 

George's actions were sluggish as sleep was overcoming him but managed to strip out of his jeans and slip into his athletic shorts before falling face first into his mattress and succumbing to his brain's desire. 

\---

_George's back felt stiff as he awoke from a fitful rest, squeezing his eyes tighter to ground himself before opening them to take in his surroundings. The surroundings in question, however, were extremely unfamiliar to him, causing him to gasp and bolt upright._

_He whipped his head from one side to the other, trying to gauge what the hell was going on. As far as he could see, a flat plane of a bubbling, slow-churning substance stretched on, the horizon met with a sky of swirling inky darkness. George thought he could make out stars if he squinted hard enough. George began to hoist himself up from the ground underneath him, realizing quite abruptly that it was honey he was atop of. Awkwardly, he pushed himself up, the ground giving just a touch, coating his fingers and palms with the sweet lavender scent. George tried wiping his hands off onto his sweatshirt but it proved unhelpful, his hands dripping slowly as he dropped his arms to his side. That's when it hit him that his mind felt empty, silent of intrusive thoughts that plagued his daily life. It was grounding, probably the one think keeping him from collapsing into a disjunct mess._

_George, who was now more alert than he had been, started searching the landscape again, desperately trying to find any sign of an exit or solid ground. Nothing had emerged since he last took in the scene. Frustrated, he began heading in a random direction, feeling how the ground beneath him would dip lightly with each step. He wasn't sure where the hell he was, but he damn well knew he'd find his way out. The scene in front of him stretched on, never showing any irregularities or changes in the landscape._

_He felt like he had walked for miles before huffing defeatedly and sitting atop the golden surface once more. He was disoriented and lost and wanted to leave this weird hellish place. He sighed and pulled his legs up to his chest, gazing down into the shimmering surface._

_That's when he felt it. The pulse underneath the barrier._

_George felt a strange urge to touch the ground once again. His hand moved out robotically as if attracted to the glowing surface. His fingers connected with the amber liquid and the pulse beneath him felt stronger than ever and George could feel a swell in his mind. He couldn't clearly make out anything other than a muddled flicker of something strong. Curious and far from stopping now, George lay his palm flat against the ground and pushed, feeling a pop, a stuttered gasp leaving his lips as his mind became flooded with an onslaught of what felt like thousands of jumbled thoughts, feelings ranging from elated to hysteria to aggression. George stumbled back and clumsily got to his feet, hoping distancing himself from the puncture in the barrier would lessen the painful barrage._

_But the damage was done. Liquid fire was spilling out of the hole at a horribly fast rate, sending a flash of fear up George's spine. The ground around him was becoming stickier, no longer a malleable solid surface to hold himself up._

_"Shit, no please, no-," George uttered, beginning to sprint as fast as possible from the tear. Pressure was climbing in his head as the powerful feelings swirled inside of him, and though he tried pulling his barriers up they crumbled into dust almost instantly. George's feet pounded against the ground as he ran, feeling the ground tugging at his shoes but refusing to falter. He could hear the mass behind him bubbling aggressively and he knew he didn't have much time before it caught up to him._

_"George!"_

_Hearing his name had almost tripped him up and he stumbled forward for a moment, quickly gaining composure as he whipped his head around, trying to search for the person calling him._ Were they safe? Can they get me out of this shit?

__

__"George!!" _The voice called again, and George looked slightly to his left, spotting a familiar face kneeling down on a plateau a couple of feet above the honey pool's surface. His heart picked up as he recognized who was calling him, redirecting himself to run straight to his friend._

__

_"Dream, I'm here! Please, HELP ME!" He yelled, and the figure swiveled his masked face towards him before stumbling to the edge of the ground he was so safely perched on, quickly dropping his arm low enough for George to grab._

__

_"George, quickly, take my hand! I'll pull you out!"_

__

_George felt his lungs burn and could barely hear Dream's call over the overwhelming cacophony inside of him but pushed passed it all, focusing on Dream's outstretched hand. He realized that he was too short to simply grab it and would need to jump. He sucked in a breath and focused all of his energy on pushing off of the sticky earth, feeling his foot catch and his shoe slip off. His heart was erratic as he was left suspended in the air for a moment._

__

_But when his hand collided with Dream's, the cacophony stopped. Like all of the sound had been sucked from the Earth at once, deafened by that powerful emotion he had felt during his call with Dream, one voice assaulting his head._

__

_**I love you** _

__

_George couldn't breathe, and his grip slipped, and Dream's scream was drowned out as George sunk into the glistening surface, an explosion of thoughts filling his throat and nose and ears until it was nothing but raucous static._

__


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George isn't sure what to make of the dream from the night before. 
> 
> He decides to be bold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Another chapter for you all. I'm not sure if I am going to have a strict upload schedule since I can't push a chapter out in just a few days. The plan for now is to get one chapter out every week, but it's a pretty fluid upload schedule at the moment and it won't be on specific days. 
> 
> As always, comments are super appreciated! I love to hear what you guys think :)
> 
> Enjoy!

George awoke, spluttering into the dimly lit room. His throat felt rough and tears pricked behind his eyes as his headache throbbed tirelessly. He was panting, overworked into a panic from the nightmare. He gathered his surroundings, finding his room just as he left it the night before, his computer sitting idle with his desk chair pushed out haphazardly from his fit from last night. Dim light was spilling through the slats of his blinds, small pieces of glowing dust hanging still in the air. He took gasping breaths, the throbbing feeling like blades severing his optical nerves with each pulse. George had a rough few minutes trying to manage the adrenaline rush he felt, torn between picking screaming or crying as his last resort. 

_What the fuck was_ that _?_

George didn't want to think about the dream. Not with the headache he had now. Even after 24 years the intensity never backed down, instead rearing its head whenever it got the chance and striking at his weakest. 

He dragged himself out of bed and stretched gingerly, feeling the satisfying pop in his shoulder blades before groping for his phone and pocketing it in his sweatshirt. George could barely see in front of himself, squinting at the light that bounced around the room. He almost rammed himself into his doorframe. 

George had found headaches' best medicine; caffeine. Lots of it. Many friends and colleagues had commented on his caffeine intake, being labeled a caffeine addict by many. Although he only used it as a remedy, it made early morning conversations much less strenuous to just accept the judgment and enjoy his beverage.

George padded into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot, pouring in the coffee grounds and adding enough water before letting it sit to brew as he pulled his phone out, quickly dimming the screen. He opened twitter and scrolled for a few minutes, finding a recent tweet from Sapnap posting about the latest update to his channel. He had the video linked underneath a little description and George smiled at the effort Sapnap had put into the thumbnail. He typed out a quick comment to hype up the post before turning back to the finishing coffee pot in front of him. He grabbed a mug from his cabinet and swiped the pot, pouring in a generous amount of coffee before setting it back in the machine. He picked up the mug and blew on it for a few moments before taking a long sip, sighing as it quickly got to work. 

He was ripped out of the peace and quiet while he was enjoying his second cup of coffee by his phone buzzed harshly on the counter top, the sound drilling into his skull like a jackhammer and making him flinch. George picked it up quickly and saw the caller I.D., huffed exasperatedly, and swiped to accept. 

"Since when do we call each other?" 

"Good morning to you too, Princess," Dream's voice rang out, flat with sarcasm. George laughed. 

"Hey, you called me and ruined my morning routine. I'm allowed to be pissy."

"Whatever," Dream deflected. "Sapnap wanted me to ask if you were going to join his stream later. He's gonna try speedrunning again." 

George perked up a little at the request. Back when the trio were just starting out YouTube Sapnap had been more active on twitch, doing simple survival world grinding or battles on popular servers, liking the interaction with his little handful of fans. Dream had started out with an intense focus on speedrunning and was getting quite popular with it. 

With Dream and him being so close, Sapnap interested in the idea of speedrunning as well and dove headfirst into researching and practicing the best strategies. He had two or three speedrunning streams under his belt and, although they weren't nearly world record, was obviously showing signs of improvement. Their fanbases knew of their connections, of course, George almost being the middle man and incorporating both his friends in his challenge videos. 

Sadly, a few of Dream's fans started getting annoyed that Sapnap was trying to steal Dream's fan base and began accusing him of cheating or stealing tactics from Dream, obviously neither being the case. George knew Sapnap had tried to avoid it for a while, but the comments eventually got to him and he stopped, going back to his previous stream choices. It pissed George off to see people being toxic to his friends, so he was happy to hear his friend was trying again. 

George took another sip of his coffee. "Yeah, sure. He'll need the support."

"That's what I was thinking, too." George nodded to no one. 

"Why didn't he just dm or text me and ask? You the mediator in our relationship now?"

"Obviously. You two can't stand each other," Dream laughed tightly.

"Oh," Dream continued. "did you think of when you wanted to livestream yet?" George felt his heart drop nervously before clearing his throat. 

"Well, I sort of... passed out last night, so I didn't really plan anything out. But," he continued, taxing his bruised mind and wracking his brain for a moment. "I could try for Tuesday maybe? Give myself a bit to prepare and let twitter know ahead of time." He could hear Dream messing with something, but couldn't make out what.

"Tuesday?" Dream asked more to himself. "Tuesday sounds good. Less people stream on Tuesdays so that'd be opening up your channel to a lot more traffic." 

"Yeah? You keeping up with the twitch stats daily?" He really wanted to mess with him and get even with Dream for last night, but his head was still sore and he couldn't really bring his A-game at the moment. Just picking on the boy would do for now.

Dream chuckled shyly, catching George's attention as he took another long sip and emptying the mug. He walked back over to the pot and perched his phone on his shoulder to hold up to his ear so he could use both hands.

"No," Dream's voice rumbled through George's ear, sending a slight shiver down his spine. "I.. I actually check twitch statistics last night so I could help you plan out times. Seems like you didn't need my help though." He rushed his last sentence and trailed off with a light chuckle, the sound of something sizzling in the background becoming more apparent through the speaker. 

But George barely registered this as his hands began to tremble just a touch, making him set down the coffee pot before he spilled anything. Dream's little confession struck a chord with George and George had no idea why. His thoughts shot back to his dream from the night previous, the touch of their palms, the confession silencing everything around him, _drowning_ -

George had to grab the counter to steady himself as his face exploded with blush, his hand rocketing back up to his phone before it clattered to the floor. 

"George?" George tried to ground himself as he felt the ghostly pang of something tense ooze into his mind, but his brain hurt too much to fortify any walls at the moment. The feeling passed. 

"Y-yeah, sorry. Almost... dropped the coffee pot." He dragged a hand across his cheek, feeling the heat that radiated off of it.

"Geez, careful man. Don't want you burning yourself." 

"It's not like I was trying to spill coffee everywhere, Dream."

"Oh I'm suree," Dream mocked, drawing the word out skeptically. George really wanted to change the subject and reached for the coffee pot once again.

"What am I hearing over there by the way?" George's face was beginning to cool off but he needed this conversation to be focused on anything but him.

Dream scoffed but George could hear the smile in it. 

"I can tell that you're changing the subject, but being the bigger person I decline to comment further. I'm making an omelet." 

"Ah, he can cook!" George scoffed with a grin, feeling better with his third mug of coffee in hand. The steam spilling off the top warmed his nose as he took a sip.

"I can, actually. Not the gourmet stuff, but I can guarantee I make the best omelets. Probably second-best Chicken Alfredo, after my mom's." 

George tried to conjure up something he could cook without him burning or melting something, but came up empty-handed. 

"Well, consider me charmed," He said plainly, unsure for a moment if the tease would land. "I think the last thing I cooked was also the last thing I caught on fire." Dream's soft wheeze from the other end reassured him. 

"Huh. If I had known cooking was the way to your heart I would have flexed my skills much sooner, George." 

"Dream-" George spluttered. 

"Jk, jk. God, I can practically _hear_ you blushing right now. You are so easy to read."

"I'm hanging up on you." 

"Oh, come on~" Dream chided, and George ripped his phone from his ear and ended the call. 

Dream was an asshole. He was an idiot. George hated him. 

George's phone pinged with a snapchat alert from Dream and George begrudgingly unlocked his phone. Next to Dream's name was the little red square indicating Dream had sent him a photo. He tapped it and the picture of Dream's omelet appeared, and George had to admit it looked pretty delicious. The text on screen read _stream is at 2am your time :)_ and George swiped to their chat. 

_I was worried for a second_

_I didn't know what you were sending_

George only had to wait a moment for Dream to respond.

_D: were you expecting anything in particular?_

George hesitated, feeling a rush of something impulsive. It was just a joke. Sort of. A prod, if anything, really. 

_maybe_ \- he backspaced and tried again. _thought it might be_ \- but he selected the text box and deleted the message. Why was he making such a big deal out of this? He wrote out the message again and without proofreading he pressed send, feeling winded suddenly. 

_face reveal pog?_

It was the dumbest thing he probably could have written, but it was casual and held no seriousness in it. Dream wouldn't show George his face obviously, no matter how hard George had admittedly wished he would. Was it selfish to want to see Dream, just to know he was real? To see the face behind the mask he had stared at for years now? 

Probably. Maybe. He wasn't sure.

Instead of a message telling George to fuck off or change subjects, the little red square was back and staring George dead in the face. His heart shot to his throat. 

_you did not just send a picture idiot_

Dream's response was immediate.

_D: see for yourself_

George didn't know how to feel when a blown out image of Shrek filled his phone screen. 

_fuck off dream_

_i actually hate you right now_

_D: you totally fell for it oh my god_

_D: that's hilarious_

George rolled his eyes, but there was a little pit in his stomach that was a little disappointed. So what if he wanted to see friend? He decided it wasn't selfish to think that anymore. 

_this feels unfair you know_

_you have all this ammunition on me and I have no clue where to begin when thinking of you_

Dream's response took much longer this time, but George preoccupied himself with draining the last of his coffee and pondering whether or not he should have a fourth before pouring out the dredges into the sink. His head felt much better considering he had to talk through the headache this morning. His phone chimed again.

_D: just use your imagination_

_...fine_

_5' 8"_

_buzzcut_

__

socks and sandals 

__

_D: bingo_

__

George groaned and shut his phone off. Dream was being unreasonable, right? George understood Dream hiding himself from his fanbase, but his friend? It was ridiculous. Dream had only kept up this charade between them after a few interactions through twitter. Early on, fans had asked if George had seen Dream before since Dream was faceless to all of them. He had responded truthfully that no, he hadn't seen him yet, and their fans flocked to Dream's mentions asking the other why he wasn't willing to reveal his face to his friend. Dream had only tweeted: 

__

_'A gentleman would offer a trade @GeorgeNotFound'_.

__

And here they were; Dream had seen George and refused to show himself to the other. George sighed and trekked back up to his room, mulling the whole thing over. 

__

George wasn't... all _that_ upset, really. He was frustrated, sure, but he could... from a certain angle understand where Dream was coming from. Dream rarely ever took photos of himself even through grade school, and Sapnap had mentioned to George that even he had only seen his face a handful of times. Dream had never been interested in sending or posting pictures of his face, and it was even less of a probability now that his brand accidentally became 'Being a Faceless YouTuber'.

__

George decided to leave it for now. Maybe they could have an adult conversation that didn't involve George beating around the bush. 

__

His mind began to wander back to the dream from last night and the dumb mask Dream had plastered over his face. Even dream Dream was a mystery to George. However, the content of the rest of the dream trickled back into his head slowly, and George...

__

George didn't know where to begin. The endless plane of honey, the strong pulse of energy right underneath the surface. It had been such a relieving feeling being able to control the intensity of the foreign thoughts, but he had been too eager. He let the euphoria get to his head and broke the barrier. The flooding of unknown emotions had been excruciating and unrelenting, a pain he hadn't felt in years since his barriers had become a reflex. 

__

And then there was Dream. Dream was calling out to him, trying to find him and save him from the dizziness and agony he was in. He had sounded so terrified and worried when he called out for him and George felt a pang in his chest. But why Dream? Out of everyone he knew why his faceless friend across the Atlantic? 

__

George knew why. The answer wasn't difficult to figure out, really. Dream was the one person George was closest to. They recorded together, talk for hours on Discord about nothing and everything, and recently had tried to keep the same sleep schedule. Dream was sort of George's whole world now, and George felt something blossom in his heart thinking that it was quite possibly the other way around for Dream as well. 

__

The confession was what really puzzled him. It was Dream. Their hands had grasped each others and the powerful thought buzzing through Dream's energy silenced the torment around him. It had caught him off guard, creating thoughts that were very obviously his own. They had confused him. Terrified him. George felt his head swim as he stepped into his room, standing in the doorway but faltering once the realization hit him.

__

He didn't slip out of Dream's grasp. _He let go._

__

__

\---

__

__

2am rolled around shortly, George having just finished editing his and Dream's new challenge video Minecraft, But Every Mob Is A Skeleton to shake his mind from the dream. It had been their most difficult challenge yet, having coded the game to spawn all hostile mobs as Skeletons. There were some minor tweaks obviously; Skeletons dropped ender pearls instead of broken bows, Wither Skeletons had to drop blaze rods, and the Ender Dragon was still the endgame boss so that the challenge was actually beatable. Shields had been essential, the pair of them going through almost 6 in total, and there were dozens of setbacks that George could proudly say were not majority his fault. 

__

George set the video to upload that morning and turned over to Discord, seeing Dream and Sapnap were already in a call. George pulled up Twitch on his second monitor and saw Sapnap had already been live for about 10 minutes. He maneuvered his headphones that were resting on his shoulders back to his ears and joined the call, hearing the double-ping that he had joined before Sapnap's voice cut through the silence. 

__

"-ucking skeleton asshole is destroying me right now." Dream chuckled lightly at Sapnap's crude comment. 

__

"Wow, Sapnap, you suck at this game." 

__

"Oh- George you dick. I didn't know you were gonna be here," Sapnap's reply was absent minded as he made the last hit on the mob in front of him, picking up the arrows it had dropped. 

__

"I was being sneaky. Wait, yo-"

__

Dream's snarky reply flooded in, cutting George off. "You were being late, actually."

__

"I was not!" George said incredulously. "It literally just turned two. I was editing our video."

__

"Aw, guys, he said _our_ video! How cute is that?" Sapnap interjected, speaking to his chat. George's eyes flicked over to the stream, watching as little awws and comments about George and Dream's relationship flooded the chat. 

__

This wasn't new to any of them. Dream and George had started out YouTube together, made the majority of their videos together, and interacted on social media pretty openly with one another. Their interactions got a lot of attention from fans quite early on, earning them a combined name on the internet. George and Dream had no problem with the comments, fanart, or other works, but it had definitely surprised George when it first appeared. He had never considered their teasing as flirting, really, but a dozen compilation videos later gave George the fans' perspective. George and Dream had watched them together and laughed at the little edits people would throw in, some captioning their voices or putting little blush marks on their minecraft avatars. George always found them endearing and... a little sweet.

__

"Sapnap stop pandering to your audience. You're only doing it cause it gives you more views," Dream stated sounding mildly annoyed. Sapnap always fed into the fans desires and although George and Dream wouldn't admit it, it definitely helped boost their content.

__

"Whatever man, I'm only bringing attention to it. I'm not the one flirting." George rolled his eyes, watching Sapnap bound across the desert in F5 searching for a lava pool and hunting for Enderman on the way. George saw the timer in the top corner and was proud of Sapnap for how far along he was.

__

"It's not flirting Sapnap," George started before Dream's teasing rang through his head. 

__

"Unless~" He said in that sing-song tone he used when hunting George down in their manhunt videos. It startled George and made his face flare up. 

__

"Dream!" Dream's wheeze sounded painful and George let out an incredulous laugh, trying to desperately to cover it with a cough.

__

The rest of the stream went pretty smoothly, George silently monitoring the chat to dispel any toxic comments directed towards Sapnap. There was virtually nothing George could see that needed any action, and if there was a rude comment that passed by the other fans all backed Sapnap up. It warmed George's heart to see their fan bases supporting them like they did. 

__

Sapnap had made a 1:13:58 run a few hours later and the chat flooded with hearts and congratulatory messages. Sapnap had made that his last run of the night, ending the stream after reading a few donations that trickled in commending him on his success. 

__

"Well," Sapnap said with a groan after his stream ended, stretching tiredly. "That went much better than I thought it would."

__

"You're run was great, Sapnap. I'm proud," Dream said as he readjusted himself in his seat. George agreed with him. 

__

"Oh please, don't patronize me, Dream. Once I get to sub 45 I'll start to believe your sincerity."

__

"I wasn't patronizing you! I'm very proud of you, dude." 

__

"Whatever, man," Sapnap brushed off, but George could hear the smile on his face. "Go to sleep you two. It's late here which means you two should already be asleep by now." 

__

"Right," George said dismissively. "like we have normal sleep schedules. As long as it's at the same time it shouldn't matter what time we go to bed."

__

"Exactly. Can't break up our sleep schedules or George gets sad." Dream was typing out something hurriedly on his end but could still dish it out with ease. George didn't understand how he did it.

__

"Great, now Dream is patronizing _me_ ," George sighed, trying his best to sound disappointed. The typing on the other line faltered. 

__

"I'd never patronize you, George. I love you too much. _Sapnap_ , on the other hand..." 

__

"I knew you were patronizing me!" Sapnap yelled, his mic peaking. Dream barked out a laugh. 

__

"I'm just kidding- DUDE, it was a JOKE-" 

__

But George felt it again, that flooding that breaks the dam in his head. There was no sentence or accumulation of words that came with the powerful feeling, but George knew what it was. That passionate Love was back, taking his breath away and making him warm all over. _Again? What_ -

__

"-right, George?" Dream's voice broke his train of thought. He tried to compose himself.

__

"Uh, I-I wasn't listening. What happened?" He placed a cold hand against his cheek, trying to regulate his temperature.

__

"You okay, man?" Sapnap asked, sounding a little worried. George was glad they cared, but this wasn't something he could just bring up. It wasn't something he would or could ever bring up. Instead he sighed and nodded to no one.

__

"Yes sorry, just got distracted."

__

"I was telling Sapnap about your plan to start streaming and that I'm making a server for you to start on and for everyone to join later on." 

__

"I'm hurt that you didn't spill everything to me yourself, George," Sapnap faked a pouting attitude but George could see right through him. 

__

"Obviously I was going to tell you. I haven't even posted it on Twitter yet. Dream's just getting ahead of himself."

__

Sapnap yawned. "Sounds about right." 

__

George didn't know what that meant. 

__

Dream sounded annoyed. "Shut up, asshole. Go to bed."

__

"Fiiine. Sorry, _mom_ ," Sapnap whined, telling the two goodnight before dropping out of the call. Both boys were silent for a moment before Dream broke the atmosphere. 

__

"I finished the code for the plugin a few hours ago. I'm DMing you right now." George didn't respond but he didn't need to. He pulled up his messages with Dream right as a long passage of code filled the screen. 

__

"Thanks. I'll splice this all together and we can test it whenever." Dream hummed.

__

"Sounds good. I'm free Sunday if that works for you. We can record too if everything is running correctly." 

__

"That's what I was thinking." The conversation lulled, George scrolling on his phone and Dream typing away at his computer. 

__

"Why don't you have your cam on?"

__

George didn't respond right away. The question was innocent enough, but George felt that bundle of nerves flare up again.

__

"Wh- I mean, I never have it on. I didn't know you wanted to see me so bad, Dream." 

__

"Come on, you're gonna stay hidden from me until Tuesday?" George rolled his eyes and tried not to think too hard before swiveling his camera to face himself and starting the video call. Just like the night before, Dream's blown out icon stared him down and George saw himself once more. 

__

"There, that wasn't so hard." George scoffed, turning away from the camera and down at his hands. 

__

"Whatever, Dream." 

__

The two didn't say much for the next couple of minutes, George trying to act cool under the camera's gaze and listening to Dream's loud typing.

__

"So... Dream." George started without thinking. _Shit, okay_. Dream hummed questioningly, waiting for George to continue. 

__

_Fuck it_. 

__

"You gonna post about me streaming before I can, too?" 

__

Dream stopped typing. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

__

"Well," George felt Dream's stare through the screen and readjusted himself, tilting his head back against the headrest of his chair. "you told Sapnap before I could, and you've already made a server for me. I was just wondering if you were going to tell the fans my streaming plans as well." Dream scoffed, but George heard him fumble on his words before they left his mouth. 

__

"It's a server for everyone."

__

"I don't know, Dream. Kinda sounds like you're simping for me. Again."

__

"Dude, what? I'm just excited for you to start is all. Don't be weird."

__

George could feel his face burning, but he pushed the words out, feeling bold. "Yeah, Dream, so you can stare at me for hours." 

__

Dream let out a strangled, choked-up sound, quickly trying to cover it with a cough. George stared blankly at his computer screen. _Had Dream just...?_

__

"Wait, did- no way. No _way_. You're blushing right now aren't you, Dream?" Dream tried to protest, but he sounded bashful and far from his mic.

__

_"No, no no no-"_ But there was no point in denying it.

__

"Oh my god, you are! You totally are! No way, oh my god. You are a total simp. I fucking called it." George felt the laugh bubble out of his throat uncontrollably. 

__

"George, come on, don't be an idiot." 

__

"What do you mean? I got you to blush! This is my greatest accomplishment."

__

"I'm not _blushing_ -" And George, jittery with adrenaline, stole Dream's words from the previous night, hearing them leave his lips before he fully registered what he was saying.

__

"Prove it." 

__

Dream's breath hitched in his throat and George felt his stomach drop. _Fuck_. Was that the wrong thing to say? George's mind was racing through every terrible thing Dream could be thinking right now; George was being weird, why would he say that, why had it sounded so _intimate_? His face flared up, his heart racing faster than before. 

__

"George," Dream started and George felt embarrassment wash over him. He tried looking anywhere but the screen in front of him.

__

"I didn't mean it, sorry. Pretend I didn't say anything." George was about to make up an excuse to get himself out of the call, but Dream's voice made him bring his attention back to the camera, the little blinking light intimidating and frightening. 

__

"No-no, just..." Dream was trying to piece together... _something_. George was going to burst into flames. 

__

"One second." 

__

Dream muted himself and George was left feeling awkward and nervous and a lot of other things he needed to sort out later. Dream had left and George didn't know what to make of it. Why mute himself? Was he freaking out on the other end? _Calling Sapnap?_

__

That last thought almost pushed him over the edge and he grabbed at his mouse to leave the call, the buzz of his phone on his desk making him pause. He picked it up gingerly, reading the home screen. 

__

**Snapchat**

__

**from DREAM**

__

A picture of Dream was staring him right in the face. George wasn't sure he should even call it a 'picture of Dream'; the image starting at the bottom of his ear and ending at the base of his neck. Dream's strong jaw was the main focus, but George couldn't help tracing down the curve of the boy's neck and onto the little tufts of soft blond hair that were being pressed against the mattress, curling up slightly at the ends. George didn't have to look hard to see the dark flush on the boy's cheek. 

__

George snapped his attention to his screen, lips parted slightly, face bright red. Dream unmuted himself. 

__

"Fair trade?"

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George makes a decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm back! I'm so sorry for dropping off of the face of the Earth like that. I moved into my apartment earlier this month for college and I had to take an unexpected break from this to get settled. I was used to writing in my bed at home and it took me a long time to switch gears, but I'm back and fueled to write more! 
> 
> To make up for my absence, this chapter is much longer than the others. 
> 
> Also to my earliest readers of my second chapter, I've updated it a bit! I sort of rushed it to get the plot moving and didn't flesh out my writing style as much as I would have liked. The plot hasn't changed, but I feel more confident in its writing. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

They hadn’t talked about it. Not for lack of wanting to talk about it, of course. It had become an ever-present thought in George's mind, something he had to catch his tongue on before the words slipped out. There hadn't been a good opportunity to bring it up, never a good time to throw in a light-hearted joke. It felt much more important than that, anyways. Cracking a joke about seeing Dream - actually seeing Dream, flushed and sneaky. A part of him that wasn’t his hands from his unboxing video or his torso from his merch promotions.   
  
This was something private. Dream had sent George the photo and no one else; meant for him only. Bringing it up felt like crossing a boundary that George couldn’t put a name to.  
  
That uncertainty scared him a little, feeling that nervous shiver wrack his spine every time the thought lingered longer than he had meant it to. His and Dream’s friendship has always been easy and honest and understanding, but this boundary - this line George was nervous to cross - this was foreign territory. It was something that got caught in his throat, something he hesitated to say before shutting up and changing the subject.

George had never felt hesitant to talk to Dream. He'd never felt this... _terrified_ that something would go wrong. It was illogical and silly to think like this, but the sinking feeling George felt drop in his gut told him otherwise.  
  
It wasn't even all that much of Dream. It was probably the least helpful picture the boy could have sent in helping George piece together what the other looked like. But it had been photocopied in George's brain one-thousand times over, even after the picture timed out and brought him back to his contact list. He didn't hesitate to replay the snap, face boiling as he held down the screen to pause the short timer. He caught himself on more than one occasion reliving the way his gaze traced his jaw, the slight bump of his cheekbone, the pink tinge smattering the surface of his freckled skin. It had been a breakthrough of information from just a fraction of himself, and yet gave George nothing for the whole picture. He wanted _more_.  
  
He forced himself to forget it.  
  
George hoped this fence that he and Dream were now teetering on wasn't dangerous. George hoped his gut feeling was wrong. That’s what made George give that fence a wide berth, avert his gaze, forget the picture. It gave himself room to breathe. George felt a pull towards Dream like nothing he had felt before in anyone else and he desperately did not want to lose that. He was never sure what to make of the comfort he got from the other, but it had started early in their friendship when they were learning each other's humor, weren't sure how to poke and prod quite yet.  
  
With Dream, even though this period existed, it was brief and ended quite abruptly. George was very slow to open up to others but Dream had been his first and major exception. It was probably because it was George's first real online relationship. He hadn't been close to any of the other server admins for the MunchyMC server and mostly kept to himself, finishing his project designs or occasionally working with builders to get architectural concepts out on the table.  
  
Then, Dream had contacted him. George specifically. He had been surprised when he saw the new private message chat open on his Discord, flicking over to it and seeing Dream's little formal address to him. The message itself was a request for an update on the progress on the spreadsheet of codes George was working on, but it felt tight-lipped and stuffy. It had made him laugh cheekily, the formality of the message, so he sent back a simple _k_ and forwarded the spreadsheet detailing their work progression.   
  
From then on they were practically inseparable, even though their relationship was all online. When Dream was asked to join on a project, George always somehow managed to be included and vice versa. They worked well together and worked efficiently together, so no one complained when they unofficially broke off from their own loosely-assigned groupings and worked as their own team.  
  
  
George hadn't gotten any more intrusive emotions over the next couple of days, although he was more on guard and ready to pull the walls up at even a hint of an intrusion. It was getting tiring, if he were to be honest. He had never needed to keep on such high alert 24/7, but he knew it was better than the alternative.  
  
George was supposed to stream today. Live on Twitch. With his facecam. He would be lying if he said he was fine, if it was nothing to worry about. He had had four cups of coffee instead of breakfast, trying to give his body something to do for a bit to distract himself. All it did was give him jitters.  
  
He decided to start editing his footage from his and Dream's recording from Sunday to grab his attention for a few hours, pulling up his editing software and pulling the video and audio files from the folder on his desktop. It was their long awaited _Minecraft, But Mobs Have Random Health_ video that many fans had been begging the boys to do, and they had thought it was an interesting challenge to pursue as well. He could cut the first twenty minutes or so, knowing it had just been testing and messing around with the plugin before they actually started.   
  
He got to the clip where he was facing Dream's character, their go-to introduction pose to start their videos, slipped on his headphones, and started listening, writing down timestamps for cutting sections or adding in background music to give their silence some company. At one point his own voice filled his ears and he perked up a little.  
  
"Dream- oh my god, oh my GOD!" He heard himself groan, his voice getting progressively louder as an innocent-looking zombie was crowding his space. The innocent zombie in question however had taken four axe-crits thus far and George was pinned against a wall, two shaking hearts taunting him in the bottom left of his screen.  
  
"George, you're fine~" Dream cooed in that tone he used when he deemed that George was being dramatic.  
  
George was, in fact, not being dramatic. He was, pathetically, dying to a zombie.  
  
He spluttered for an answer before giving up and speaking flatly; "Dream, I'm literally about to die, and the video is going to be over. Is that what you want, Dream? For me to be dead and the challenge to end?" He was retaliating with his incredulous-sounding voice, the one that always made Dream wheeze with laughter but always give in and help. This instance was no different.  
  
"Alright, alright-" George saw Dream bound over covered only in a leather helmet and an iron chestplate, pause for his axe to max out, then crit the zombie in front of him before the creature turned on Dream, raising its arms up to attack.  
  
"Woah, what? AH, wait!" George kept his screen on Dream who had to crit the zombie more times that George could care to count before it fell over dead, dropping nothing. George was munching on a porkchop and laughing.  
  
"What was that health? What w- that was like a-it had to be like an iron golem or something _I almost died, George!_ "  
  
"Yeah. I know, Dream. I was literally calling for help because I was dying." He had gotten his health back up to a safe number of hearts before uncrouching, switching to his pickaxe to mine a vein of iron a few blocks away. Dream bounded around next to him excitedly.  
  
“Aw, George, was I your knight in shining armor?” He heard himself reply “W-what?” mingled with a scoff.  
  
“Barely. You almost died as well, Dream.”  
  
Dream made a noncommittal noise.  
  
“You still needed me. I call that a win.”  
  
George felt his skin crawl, stuttering out, “a wi- I needed your help, Dream, chill. You didn’t win anything.”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
George didn’t need to mark anything down. He cut the audio and video clip silently.

  
George waited until he saw himself find their lava pool before jotting down the time stamp, smiling to himself at Dream’s little noise of surprise, then paused the program. He pulled out his phone and watched the time change over to 2pm, feeling his stomach flip. He had an hour before his stream started and he needed to triple check his set up before he went live, just in case.  
  
George was nervous. This wasn’t a new feeling; He’d been nervous before and will continue to be nervous a thousand times over in the future. This... being live and on the spot and watched by thousands of attentive and judging and wandering eyes was alien to him and made him feel sick in the same way his headaches did.  
  
George wanted to call Dream. Dream made things easier. He made everything easier, really. He made his mind feel clearer and his heart feel stronger and gave him encouragement on the littlest things, even if giggles and name-calling were tossed around lightly.  
  
But George was going to call him during the stream. That was the plan. Dream already had the server pulled up and ready and Sapnap was going to join 'later' is all he had said the previous morning. He had pointedly not revealed what he would be doing, brushing it off as something casual, but George could tell that his voice sounded pitched and tight like he was hiding something. George decided to let it go.  
  
George was supposed to greet his followers, thank donos, and keep a constant flow of commentary throughout the entire stream both with and without his friends.  
  
He was totally fine.  
  
3pm rolled around and George pulled himself closer to his desk, Streamlabs open and his account pulled up to start his stream. He took a deep breath. _No point in dragging it out._  
  
  
"Dream leave the house alone. Go build somewhere else." George punched Dream's character and watched him crouch and look at his feet, feigning sadness. George rolled his eyes, his gaze finding his chat filled with messages telling George to apologize.  
  
"Wh- no, I'm not apologizing to Dream, guys. He keeps stealing my stuff and has barely planted anything." Dream cried mockingly and George scoffed, looking away from his screen to try to cover up his smile.  
  
"Dream, go plant the seeds, please. I'm trying to finish this house so we can worry a little less about dying. Thank you... SarahElliot for the 200 bits! Thank you."  
  
The stream had, so far, gone swimmingly. George had been nervous as he watched viewers rush in by the thousands to see him. To see his face. He had felt overwhelmed at their showering of compliments and tried to push through the awkwardness he was feeling. But that tension simmered down lightly as he had pulled up the game.  
  
He kept an eye on the donations that sprang up on his second monitor and made sure to read them out if he could catch them. It wasn't difficult much like he thought it would be, and as soon as Dream had joined his VC channel his nerves rolled off of him, falling into their usual playful banter.  
  
He felt self-conscious of course. Thousands of eyes were trained on him that he couldn't see and it made him feel clammy. He didn't feel comfortable in his chair for any long period of time and had to force his shoulders to relax more than once. It was new and terrifying, but it was exciting knowing his fans could talk and respond to him in real time. Thinking of doing meets or conventions with a crowd of hundreds or even thousands in a single room with him seemed daunting and improbable, but this was the next best thing. A step in the right direction, maybe.  
  
"I don't want to farm, George, I want to mine for three hours and come back with six stacks of iron like you're _supposed_ to play the game," Dream whined.  
  
"We already talked about this, Dream. That's terrible pacing. Would you rather take over building?"  
  
"...No."  
  
George's gaze followed Dream's character as he bounced around below him, opening and closing chests seemingly randomly. Dream was constantly in motion, George had noticed. Ever since they started playing together Dream could never quite keep still, inching around and pointing as if actually standing in front of George himself. It felt so much more personal to George than many probably thought it did. It took the stress out of face-to-face interaction, his walls usually taking up a lot of mental capacity. It was an excellent replacement.  
  
They worked separately and kept the conversation light, Dream mostly taking over and talking about his uncomfortable experience at the grocery store a few days ago with a middle-aged woman who always managed to be in the same aisle as him. George listened absently, continuing to thank donations and read off their questions in Dream's pauses.  
  
"AtlasisFound thank you for 500 bits! Thank you. ...'Are you and Dream going to meet up soon?' No. Well, we haven’t planned anything, anyway. Dream won't even show me his face! No way he wants me in America where I can see all of him."  
  
"All of me?" Dream said slyly and George looked away, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue to keep from smiling.  
  
"You know what I mean. Chill." Dream's laugh filled the air and he let a light giggle pass his lips.  
  
"And who said you'd be coming to America? Maybe I'll make the trek to Britain and watch you walk right past me in your apartment building."  
  
"Yeah, okay. Sure. Obviously I'd come to America. Both you and Sapnap live in the U.S. It'd be much easier for one person to travel than two."  
  
"Who said anything about Sapnap coming?"  
  
George felt his heart flutter at Dream's implications but kept his face guarded. He was not going to blush from Dream's teasing live on camera.  
  
"Dream-"  
  
"You're blushing." Dream's statement caught him off-guard, making his words stutter in his throat before he could push them out.  
  
"I'm not, please don't start that."  
  
"Whatever, George, you totally blushed." Dream was trying to push him and play to the fans and George was not going to have it like that.  
  
"What, are you watching my stream or something?"

George's viewers had no idea. No clue that George's face was no longer a mystery to Dream but now a familiar friendly sight. It gave George leverage. Blackmail, maybe. If he wanted, George could post an innocent-sounding tweet that insinuated George's face reveal to his friend but not vice versa, catching their viewers attention. They had all seen the tweets. They knew the deal. Their fans would tag him in thousands of tweets wondering when Dream's face reveal to George would happen and George would interact with every single one. 

The image of Dream's blushing profile shut down that train of thought. The photo was too raw, too unnerving for George to face again. Dream knew he replayed the message, knew that George took his time in absorbing what little information he had been given. That was real blackmail, and Dream didn't need to know that.  
  
"No, but I can tell." George let out a breath and refocused on chat, asking them for backup against Dream's ridiculous claim. They all betrayed him, responses mostly in all caps screaming phrases along the lines of "HE DID LOL". George pouted and looked down at his lap, mocking sadness.  
  
"You're all traitors, you know that? I let you guys see my face and you step all over me. Very hurtful, guys."  
  
Dream was silent for a moment, his character halted and Dream's mic filled with a few moments of typing, catching George's attention. Dream cleared his throat before speaking.  
  
"I'd be great if you came to America, by the way."  
  
George's attention was pulled away from his second monitor, chat forgotten as his attention glued itself to Dream. Dream was just saying that hypothetically. Of course it'd be great if George went to America. Not realistically, but it was nice to think about. That's all. He wasn't sure what direction to take the conversation in, but his mouth beat his brain and answered for him.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"What do you mean 'really'? Of course it would be. You act like we haven't gone the past handful years talking to each other and working together everyday. It'd.... It would be really nice to see you, George."  
  
The twitch chat was moving faster than George would have ever seen in his life. His gaze was, however, locked onto Dream's who stood right in front of him, pacing and punching the floor. George wondered fleetingly if he did this in person as well, what his hands did when he fidgeted.  
  
Maybe he clenched his fists when he was nervous. It made George's head hurt.  
  
"W-well-"  
  
Something chimed through his headset and Sapnap's brash voice took over as he practically yelled "What is UP guys! I made it, George! Give me coords I am on the way now-"  
  
  
After Sapnap's scrambled intro to the stream, Dream dropped the discussion and George avoided any messages about the conversation from chat. Sapnap carried the bulk of the commentary much like he did in his own streams and George let him take those reigns. His head was swimming from Dream's words and he was torn at the idea.  
  
Of course he wanted to go to America. His two best friends were in the States and he wanted to see them up close and hear their voices ring clear in front of him. He wanted to finally see Dream and would happily endure all of the teasing about his height if it meant he could look up and see the face behind the friendly voice he had grown close with.  
  
But George felt hesitant. He was so used to the relaxation he could huddle into when he was with them, so used to the ease he felt when he spoke to the two of them without having to use extra focus to keep his mind safe. What was worse was even though George had been perfecting these walls, learning to protect his mind brick by brick, those clear, powerful statements that everyone has from time to time had a chance of slipping through. Those thoughts were much stronger, popping up seemingly out of nowhere and catching George by surprise every time.  
  
George didn't want to infiltrate their minds even if it was out of his control. He always felt guilty when a stray thought from those close to him broke through. It made him feel sick, how easily he could pry into others' personal thoughts, the one place no one had access to but themselves. Sans George. He knew he shouldn't be so hard on himself, but it was a heavy cloud over his heart, one that made no effort to move and would not any time soon. His knees felt weak.  
  
He didn't want that safe feeling to change. He wanted to laugh with his friends and be open with them without that looming fear of something slipping through.  
  
Something whispered in the back of his mind. Something he wasn't sure he wanted to admit to himself. He pushed it away.  
  
The stream ended shortly after with George feeling sluggish from overthinking and worrying. He waved a short goodbye and waited for his OBS to finally show the stream had officially ended before falling back in his chair and sighing, feeling relief flood through him.  
  
"I think that went pretty well, huh George?" Sapnap's voice questioned and George picked up his head, rubbing the cool palm of his hand across his face.  
  
"Yeah. Definitely more enjoyable than I thought it would be."  
  
"Dude, it's the best. I'm glad you're finally getting into it."  
  
Silence hung in the call for a few minutes. This wasn't unusual; the three of them often left the call running even if they were busy working on editing or just scrolling on twitter just to sit in comfortable silence with each other, like the other two were right beside them. George could tell this silence was stilted though. Both Sapnap's and Dream's mics were picking up short bursts of typing and it didn't take long for George to piece together what was going on.  
  
"You know," He started. "If you two wanted to talk to each other without me you could have just said."  
  
Sapnap let out a rushed laugh, shifting in his chair. Dream was silent.  
  
"Well I'm just gonna say it. Dream was supposed to talk to you about this before the stream but he chickened out, so... I guess i'll have to spit it out for him."  
  
George perked up and pushed himself up to fix his posture. Glancing at Dream's icon George could see that his friend wasn't muted. Dream remained quiet.  
  
"Um... okay. What's up then?"  
  
It took his friend a moment to respond, obviously trying to find the right words to say. Sapnap was never this hesitant. He was the most straightforward out of the three of them, rarely ever one to beat around the bush even during uncomfortable conversations. Sapnap cleared his throat.  
  
"We want you to come to Florida. To see us. Dream's already bought us tickets like the sugar daddy he is, and I'm putting this on the record that I did offer to pay for it more than once-" George could hear the disapproving tone Sapnap was throwing Dream's way. "-and... it's- it won't be for another few weeks so if you're busy or something we'll be able to re-book them pretty easily. I was actually trying to find my suitcase earlier which is why I didn't join the stream until later. It was in the fucking attic, of course. The last place I looked." When George didn't respond, Sapnap picked up the conversation again.

" ...And, Dream's been planning stuff for us to do so we won't get bored and leave early, which I have threatened. Is, uh, that everything? Dream?"  
  
"Basically," Dream's voice cut in, his silence broken. "The tickets are a week round-trip which would give you guys plenty of time to visit and see everything. A-at least if you want to follow them. I'm making plans but obviously they're not set in stone.” Dream hesitated before continuing.   
  
“I... I just thought that it's been so long since Sapnap and I discussed meeting up and I couldn't stop thinking about fun stuff to do together once he came to Florida... a-and then it got me thinking about you and having you here to meet us both and everything the three of us could do here and... then I really couldn't get it out of my head."  
  
George felt his brain spinning on it's axis. He was going to be nauseous soon if he didn't start breathing. He forced himself to speak before he gave himself a panic attack, his voice sharp with much more steadiness than he felt.  
  
"So- you guys just... _planned_ this whole trip out without talking to me about it? You're just throwing together a trip behind my back without checking in with me?"  
  
The silence that followed was thick with tension. George didn't mean to sound harsh, but those feelings of fear and guilt were starting to wash over him again and it was taking more control over his emotions than he had expected. His barriers were bending under the pressure his skull was creating, his vision tunneled and spiraling.  
  
"W-well, I told Dream that maybe we should wait to tell you until we had a solid plan, you know? We didn't want you thinking this was something we weren't serious about."  
  
Dream was quick to join in. "Right. I'm not messing with you, George, or scraping all of this together last minute. I'm being serious. I've been planning stuff out far longer than Sapnap has known. I... I really, really would love to see you."  
  
George felt his body tingling with electricity. He could feel every fiber within him vibrating, fueled by adrenaline and he was feeling too much. His heart sank and soared, his mind was muddled with fear and anxiety and something pricked at the edges of his barriers that whispered **please-**  
  
"I-I have to go." George stammered, disconnecting from the call.  
  
  


George didn't look at his phone the rest of the night. Every time it buzzed against his desk it sent a sharp pang through his head making him flush as though he had a fever. He felt gross. He was exhausted.   
  
His mind wouldn't stop racing.  
  
George silently admitted to himself that his reaction could have been better. Dream and Sapnap didn't know what George was going through, the kind of turmoil he went through daily as emotions or thoughts slipped through the cracks, making him angry and frustrated at his lack of control. How the hell could they possibly know?  
  
George felt wired, the conversation spiking his adrenaline uncomfortably high. He hadn't meant to sound rude, but to sound frightened might as well have been the worst thing he could have done to his friends. They all knew each other so well, read each other almost too accurately during recording sessions or Sapnap's lives, getting clipped by the fans who were always dying to know more about them. George usually had excellent control over his outwardly expressed emotions, but this almost fractured his mask that he held together so easily. He was scared for all the reasons Dream and Sapnap couldn't imagine and they would come to their own conclusions. They would think he hated them when nothing was further from the truth.  
  
His phone buzzed repeatedly; another call he would ignore. George had dug himself into a hole tonight, but damage control could wait until the morning. At least the headache he was feeling now was stress-induced and of his own accord. It grounded him even if every throb behind his eyes threatened to send him to the floor.  
  
He remembered when he was younger, skinnier, more frustrated. He remembered wishing he was never like this. He wished he would wake up one day and never again feel that sickly hum that crackled around him, suffocated him when his guard was down. He had cried over that blissful thought more than he wanted to admit. He wanted peace and privacy.  
  
But George had cast aside that delusional thought ages ago. He had looked himself in the mirror, eyes ringed with puffy dark circles from lack of sleep, and told himself the truth. This was his normal. George's narrative. Each day a new chapter in his fucking book of Life. There was no magical cure to this nor was there a day where this would stop. He had to suck it up and keep pushing forward otherwise he’d be miserable for the rest of his life.  
  
Things had become easier since that day; letting go of the impossible and focusing on the now, hauling the walls up slowly but surely, putting every brick in its place.  
  
Sure, he missed the sweet nothings that delusion whispered to him, but he had grown since then.  
  
He sighed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes to ease the ache he felt. He had fucked up. Dream and Sapnap didn't deserve this. George was being a coward.  
  
Timidly, he let the idea of meeting Dream and Sapnap wash over him. He'd make a pros and cons list.  
  
Pros: George would get to meet his friends in person. Friends he'd grown close with like nobody else. He'll get to see them banter over nonsense and react to each others' bad jokes and hear them laugh loud and clear, free from feedback and poor mic quality. He’ll get to look at them whenever he wanted or talk to them about nothing and everything face to face, the closest they would ever be.  
  
Cons: George would have to keep his barriers up for a week straight. He would have to deal with vomit-inducing migraines for the majority of the time he visited. He couldn't let his guard down. He wouldn't let himself.  
  
George felt his heart skip, one unforgiving, revealing memory from years ago making it's presence known, leaving his mouth dry.  


  
Touching had never been a factor in George's mind-reading until he had started Uni. He had become friends with a small group from his Computer Science major and frequently studied with them in the library well into the night, the handful of them being on the verge of sleeping right there on the table most nights.  
  
George had been pretty close with all of them, but one boy in particular had been the one George stuck to more than the rest. Phillip had been his closest friend at the time, the two of them able to bounce ideas off of one another both in the classroom and during social settings. Everyone he knew knew they were closer than the rest.  
  
That night had been a particularly grueling study in the library, the group barely communicating unless there was a small question or the light discussion about the difference between a .AVI file and an .MP4, something that had been drilled into their heads early on but was foreign to their exhausted states. The group had disbanded earlier than usual, but exams were coming up and everyone was burnt out and all decided they needed the extra sleep.  
  
George had been the last to pack, groggily trying to place his laptop into his bag before stuffing his notes along with it. Phillip had waited for him, backpack slung loosely over one shoulder as he watched George struggle to put everything away. George felt him staring and his face flushed but he said nothing, hauling the heavy bag over his shoulder before the two exited the library side-by-side.  
  
Phillip had always walked George to his dorm before heading to his own. George had never understood why as Phillip's dorm was a block down from the library the other way, but he always brushed George off whenever he asked, saying he was happy to do it. George would never say it, but he was glad Phillip stayed with him. It gave them time to be in each other's presence alone, even if the walk was silent most nights.  
  
That night however, when George's dormitory came into view, before George could say his farewell to his friend, Phillip asked him a simple question.  
  
_"What's your plan after this?"  
  
Curious, George turned to face him, taking a moment to find his gaze. George always forgot how tall the boy was, how Phillip towered over his shorter frame, how he ducked his head to speak to him. George felt his chest tighten.  
  
"Uh... well, if my roommate hasn't locked me out again, I'll probably get a shower and go to bed. I have class at 8 tomorrow and if I'm lucky I'll get about 5 hours of sleep." George's eyelids felt heavy. He really missed his bed.  
  
"No- I mean... after _this. _All of this. Uni, grad school... what's your plan?"  
  
George had to ponder the question for a moment. His tired overworked brain wasn't doing too well, but he tried to come up with a reasonable answer.  
  
"I guess... well, I probably won't go to grad school. I think I'll just be applying for any computer programming or web developer job. They're all in high demand right now." Phillip nodded but seems on edge. George stared at him, watched Phillip's eyes flick to him then down to his feet quickly, watched the way he clenched and unclenched his fist like he was trying to work himself up to say something. George let himself look.  
  
"What about you? What are your grand plans for the future?" George asked with a chuckle, trying to ease Phillip's mind. Phillip looked off into the distance, staring at the city lights far down the road.  
  
"I think I want to travel. See the world, meet all sorts of people... I don't know. Reach enlightenment."  
  
George laughed, readjusting his bag strap to sit more comfortable on his shoulder. "That sounds nice. Anywhere in particular you want to visit?" Phillip shook his head, his gaze still far off. He sighed, looking to the pavement between them.  
  
"No idea. I just know I want to get the hell out of here." George nodded, understanding that feeling. _

_The air was still. Something crackled at the edges of his barriers and George's eyes widened as he stared at the fist Phillip was making. He wondered absently if Phillip's hands were soft.  
  
"Don't you... don't you ever just want to leave, George?" The gentleness of the question almost startled George, tearing his eyes away from the boy's hand and looking up at Phillip for clarification only to find two wide blue eyes staring intently back. He looked away, trying to form an answer.  
  
George knew he was not the most adventurous person, but every once in a while he felt this urge to do something spontaneous, something bold, something dangerous. To say 'to hell with planning' and leave town on a whim, go on a road-trip in a busted van and a half-empty wallet like in those teenage American films or go cliff jumping on the coasts of Greece, crystal blue water shimmering beneath him as he took the leap of faith. The thoughts were tempting but fleeting, and George clung to familiarity like a lifeline, scared of what might happen if he let go, if he slipped, swallowed by the sea beneath him.  
  
"I-" He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what Phillip wanted to hear._

_Phillip chuckled to himself, pink dusting his face. "I think I'm out of it, man."  
  
George smiled weakly at him, feeling confused but not wanting to push the subject any further. George could tell something was there hanging between them, something Phillip was trying to spit out. Instead he huffed lightly, seemingly trying to ease his nerves before looking to George again.  
  
"Night, George. I'll see you Wednesday, okay?" Phillip said, placing a hand firmly on George's shoulder and giving it a weak shake.  
  
_**I'd take you with me.** _  
  
The dam had broken. The fortress around him had collapsed irrevocably, invaded with a strong feeling of Love George had never been acquainted with. The touch lingered no longer than a second, but as George watched Phillip walk off in the direction they came, his hitched breath clung tightly in his throat, his heart roaring in his ears._  
  
George avoided Phillip after that. He hated every moment of it, but every time George heard his airy voice; every time they made eye contact; George felt like his body was on fire, like someone had doused him in gasoline and flicked a match at his feet, flames licking at his skin and devouring him whole. His other friends noticed his demeanor, noticed the stiff change in atmosphere when the two were near, exchanging looks of worry but never addressing their behavior. George was grateful for it.  
  
Phillip had dropped out of college a month later. George heard weeks after from some girl Phillip knew that he had moved to Japan and gotten an office job in sales. Something about "family issues". George felt numb for weeks.  
  
  
George avoided physical contact after that. He chalked it up to his powers strengthening or maturing or something similar. He called it bullshit. Every bump in the supermarket or friendly clap on the back shot a bolt of emotions through George's heart that weren't his own. George felt dirty. It had destroyed any bit of socialization he had left, leaving him a frustrated, anxiety-ridden mess. Every time his friends invited him somewhere he would decline, worried about an arm that may grab him too casually.   
  
He got used to it. People took notice of his visible discomfort whenever someone got too close and gave him his space. George fortified his barriers more, dulling the intensity of the oncoming thoughts but never dissipating completely.   
  
George didn't want to risk anything. He didn't want those feelings of guilt, didn't want to keep repressing the information he stole from others. The cons were stacked against him, his brain fighting to overtake his heart.  
  
And yet, he felt that urge. That push to do something bold. Dangerous.

George loved his friends. He loved Sapnap and Dream. He would do anything for them, even at the sake of his own sanity. George would be stronger when he finally met them, would push his walls to the test and protect not only himself from unwanted waves of secrets but his friends' privacy from himself. He wanted to live alongside them, shove them off when they got too clingy or affectionately elbow them when he knew words would fail him.  
  
His heart was winning. George could do it. He would do it, for his friends and for himself.  
  
George crossed his room and picked up his phone, cringing at the brightness of his screen. He focused on the notifications on the lock screen.  
  
Three missed calls and five texts from Sapnap. Eight missed calls and eleven texts from Dream. George opened Discord.  
  
Staring down the cliff face, waters full of churning and writhing uncertainty, George felt that spray of doubt. He felt how the wind blew from underneath him like it would pick him up and throw him off if he didn't do it himself. He was scared; scared of letting his feet leave the safety of the ground, the plummet his heart would take as he jumped into uncharted territory. 

He would do it for them. For Sapnap. For Dream. George typed the message and hit send.  
  
He’d let go of the lifeline.  
  
_im going_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! I love to read what you guys think so don't be shy! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George needs to fix his mistake, even if it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long wait for another update? I guess they're going to be more infrequent than I thought.
> 
> This chapter was incredibly difficult to write. I'm not sure why, but It's probably because it's a transitional chapter. I never felt happy with it and I didn't want to post until I knew that I liked it. Apologies for the delay guys! We'll get the wheels spinning next chapter, I promise.
> 
> As always, kudos and comment are super appreciated! I read every comment and try to interact as much as I can!

Waking up in a haze of guilt and panic, George jolted at the sound of his phone buzzing on his nightstand. He didn't care what the notification was; he warily avoided the device, hurriedly leaving his room to put as much distance between him and it as possible. George knew was putting it off for no real reason; he could easily put the phone to his ear and clear up the misunderstanding, explain himself, and move on. His lying worked well enough. But he was nervous, and tongue-tied, and sore from his own strangled thoughts.

He stepped out of his room and circled through the apartment, reaching for nothing in particular, never sitting down to make himself comfortable. He wanted to do something, anything to calm himself, but everything led back to discord, the conversation the night before, George's panic attack, and his hasty leave. Nothing piqued his interest, nothing was as distracting as the dread he felt in every bone of his body. He felt hollow as an icy wind blew through him. He was going to be sick.

George's thoughts resigned before his body could, facing the open door of his bedroom with his feet nailed to the floor before he could fully register that he had moved from the island in the kitchen. His brain was clouded. He needed to call his friends. He needed them to know he didn't hate them. He could never hate them, no matter how annoying they tended to be. He was just fucked in the head and needed to learn to control himself. This back-and-forth inside of him had to stop or it would destroy what little connections he had remaining left. George couldn't lose them. He needed them to know everything he could give them.

George quietly made his way back to his desk, phone right-side-up on his deskpad where he had left it the night previous. He stared at the fuzzy time before he unlocked it and went to his messages, his finger hovering over the name he couldn't get off his tongue, sticking to his taste buds with a bitter aftertaste.

He rang Sapnap instead.

His panicked yell startled George, the phone only ringing for about half a second before the call was answered.

" _George!_ Dude, we've been trying to reach you all night! Where have you been?" Sapnap's words were electrified; sharp and direct, full of worry and curiosity.

"Isn't it like four in the morning for you?" George asked, his worry momentarily forgotten. He had forgotten about the distance between them when he called, too nervous to think straight.

"Dude, that is so not important right now. I wasn't even asleep anyways." George cringed at his words, that familiar guilt inching its way back into his heart.

"I-" He felt the words lodging themselves in the back of his throat as he desperately tried to push them out. He was nervous and petrified, but it needed to be done. He tried again.

"Sapnap-"

"George, I'm just- I'm so sorry. Really. You were right, we should have talked to you and let you decide what works best for you."

"Sapnap, please-" but he was cut off again by his friend's almost incoherent rambling.

"A-and... I -I know how much you hate things being last minute and we- well, I thought if everything was all planned out then... you know, you wouldn't have to worry about anything, but now that I've thought about it I realized it was a stupid idea-"

George felt sick. Sapnap was apologizing for setting up a trip for him so he wouldn't have to stress about buying tickets or worry about their schedules lining up. He wanted to make this as smooth as possible for George, let him only worry about what to pack and upload before heading to see them. George regretted his reaction last night for the umpteenth time.

He remembered that rush from below, the waves beckoning him in as he threw himself off into unfamiliarity. Danger.

He had stepped off of the ledge and had to prepare for the fall.

" _Sapnap_ ," He tried again, his heart pounding as he raked his fingers through his hair, waiting until the boy had ceased his rant. "I am begging you with everything in me, just.... please don't apologize. I- I freaked out, but I shouldn't have left and brushed off your calls. I should have stayed and talked to you guys and let you know what I was feeling. I'm sorry, Sapnap, and... I really appreciate you trying to set everything up for me. You were right, I do tend to worry about everything."

"We still should have talked to you."

"Maybe." _Maybe_.

A resigned heavy sigh responded. "Well, I'd still like to apologize."

"I appreciate it, and I accept."

Sapnap paused before answering. "And I yours, Georgie."

The line was silent for a handful of moments, each boy wrapped up in the words they wanted to say and the words they needed to find.

"Were you just worried about the planning, George?"

Sapnap's words crashed in first, ringing through George's phone speaker and reverberated through his skull, his body going rigid.

"I mean," the boy continued quickly with his tone rapidly becoming unsure in George's ear. "I don't mean to sound like a dick, but...it- it's gotta be more than just that."

George's heart skipped and quickened its pace. George felt light-headed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you didn't seem just angry that we did all this planning, you know? I mean I know you, dude. When you're under a time constraint or you have to rush you get all pissy and short with me when I interrupt you. But Yesterday you sort of sounded... I don't know. Scared? Threatened? I don't know the right way to put it."

George felt clammy. He felt seen. A thousand thoughts were racing inside of his head, frightened. George hadn't thought the conversation would lead down this road. He wanted the guilt and shame to wash away neatly and laugh and joke with his friends again. His pondering last night had helped him come to a decision but hadn't prepared him for the depth this conversation could lead. His words were caught in his throat.

"Come on, man, talk to me."

The large and blatantly obvious part of the reason he didn't want to meet up swirled in his head. He loved to talk to them at any hour, no longer tense but washed with a feeling of relief and happiness that radiated from within himself. It was precious and wonderful and normal. He wanted the space between them to stay just as it was, far enough away to protect their friendship and protect them from himself.

And George had wanted to keep it that way for the longest time, as much as it hurt to admit. He was selfish and wanted his life split just the way he wanted; spliced between the burdens of his own life and his online self, someone who was normal and could talk to his friends like a normal person. He was selfish because he didn't want that familiarity to slip between his fingers and dissolve into the great abyss, ripping his safety away from him and replacing it with fear and cruelty.

George felt the guilt seeping in once again, coiling and squeezing at his heart until he wanted to cry, wanted to spill everything to Sapnap in the safety of his apartment, in his own space, free from pushing himself to the brink each day before collapsing into bed and doing the same routine all over again; twenty-four hours a day; seven days a week; fifty-two weeks a year; twenty-four years and counting.

He was struck again by the giddiness from the night before, the thought of the chance to see them in person, to see them, to know them. The opposing sides within him battled ferociously even though he had made up his mind, causing regret and hope to churn around uncomfortably in his stomach.

"Sap," He started, knowing if he didn't start word-vomiting that he'd freeze up and be unable to speak at all. He wanted to let him know everything.

"This is going to sound... bad, okay? And you might think I'm being a dick or something but please, just... listen."

The line was silent. George pressed forward.

"I... like my space. I like that I can come home and do whatever I want after a long day when I finally get to relax. I like being able to talk to you guys whenever I want-"

"-You feel uncomfortable about seeing us in person."

George winced, balling up his fist into the soft cotton of his shirt hard enough that he could draw blood.

"It's not like that."

George wanted to explain it better, but Sapnap inhaled trying to find the words to say. George let it go.

"I think I... I think I get it, man. I mean... god, I know I'm hella excited to see the both of you. But I'm also, like, hella nervous, too. What if you're catfishing me, dude? What if you're bald?"

The crude joke startled George out of his mood, causing a laugh to bubble out nervously. "Sapnap please," he replied weakly.

"I'm joking, George. Kind of." George could hear the smile on his lips.

"But in all seriousness, I'm fucking scared to see y'all. Online friendships are different than in-person ones, you know? Like, there's less shit you know about a person until you're actually in their vicinity, I guess. There are quirks that people have that are only obvious in person, man. I'd hate if I had some weird something about me that just aggravated you unknowingly and I wasn't actively doing it on purpose. Am I making sense?"

George nodded to no one, his heart aflame with familiarity. His throat felt tight and his fingers were twisting and fidgeting around the hem of his shirt.

"All too true, Sapnap." He croaked out at his words.

The boy released a sigh of relief, obviously happy his feelings were reciprocated. "Phew, thank god. I was trying not to ramble. You get what I mean though, right? Is that sort of how you're feeling?"

"Yeah, I... think so." _Liar._

Sapnap let out a relieved chuckle. George's mind felt slightly less tangled with fears and anxiety, but the mess was still present, sitting like a rock in the center of his thoughts. Even if George's reasoning for feeling apprehensive went a lot deeper than his friend's, his and Sapnap's circumstances were still borderline similar. There was so much George could potentially not know about the two of them.

There was so much they didn't know about _him_. It felt cruel. He hated this big fucking secret.

George couldn't get the words out he wanted. Not that he wanted to confess his burden, that he would ever, but he felt so much more than nerves. He felt confusion, anxiety pounding through his veins, and genuine fear.

But he couldn't say any of it. He couldn't put it into words. At least Sapnap wasn't totally at ease either. It helped him breathe a little easier. But George.... he needed to set some boundaries. He needed security for himself and his friends. He wanted to keep them safe.

George heard a sigh, knocking him out of his thoughts for a moment. "You know, we can just say it's my fault and move on."

George pushed out an amused huff.

"Or we can blame Dream."

"I'm totally down for that, dude," came the response, littered with giggles that oozed relief.

George felt better, the lingering feeling of guilt not entirely wiped away but smudged in the corner of his mind. It gave him the confidence to speak.

George inhaled, clearing his head.

"Can-"

He exhaled, pushing past the grief.

"Can we go on call?"

"George has some stuff he wants to run through with us, Dream."

Sapnap had texted Dream to join their call as soon as they moved their conversation over to Discord. George had itched to contact him, but something strong had tugged his hand away from his phone, pressing firmly into his bruised brain, the object now lying face down on the edge of his bed far from his reach. Now he was facing his computer, half-listening to Sapnap introduce a freshly-awoken Dream to the conversation and half focusing on picking at the small pieces of fuzz that littered the front of his shirt.

The yawn Dream had been trying to suppress dies out, a quick and worried "oh" coming out instead. "Yeah, okay... Can I- I mean, George-"

"Please don't apologize, Dream," George said sharply and too quickly, his heart flipping noisily in his chest. "I know I overreacted. I know you guys just wanted to plan a nice trip, make it easier for me to travel and everything and... I'm grateful, truly. So please don't feel like I need or deserve some apology."

"We talked about it Dream. George just has the jitters is all. Nothin to be worried about, man."

George felt grateful for Sapnap's attempt at defusing the guilt Dream was surely feeling, even if Sapnap only knew what George let him see. Sapnap held somewhat of a brash persona on camera, but he knew when to handle a difficult or stressful conversation. George thought back fondly on his hours-long discord calls with the other boy, talking about everything on George's plate and sometimes just sitting there in silence because he knew Sapnap would listen then, too.

George shook himself out of his reminiscing, hearing the infrequent clicking of Dream's keyboard. George looked up to the discord panel open on his screen. He held his shirt tight in his hands, the fabric now loose from worrying it through his fingers.

"Alright ... Okay. Cool. Now, _what_ ," Dream dragged out. "did you want to start with?" George picked up on Dream's drawl over the word 'what', something that pulled like taffy and crackled with the boy's relaxed voice. He didn't think much of it. He didn't _try_ to, anyway.

Right now his heart felt sick and worried, sitting heavy in his chest, crowding out any other thoughts or fixations. The conversation was going to be embarrassing. His friends would be concerned or frightened at this sudden introduction of George's feelings, something George was never good at. They would treat him differently, and George wanted that less than anything in the world. He had a thousand thoughts running through his head, all screaming out the worst possibilities, the most destructive ways their friendship would change.

George was never vulnerable. He wasn't like Sapnap who let his mouth babble before his brain caught up.

He wasn't like Dream who kept his heart on his sleeves, open and honest and safe.

George was too calculating, too nervous, too meticulous with his words and his actions. He left up barriers both inside and out, desperate to keep himself safe from the new and threatening.

It was essential that he say it. Sapnap and Dream needed these boundaries more than George did, he reasoned, trying to psych himself up for the words about to leave his lips.

"So," He took in a shaking breath.

"Boundaries."

The other boys were silent and George pressed forward, stammering as he forced himself to talk.

"I-I felt the need to- well, I wanted to set some, um, personal boundaries regarding the trip. I already spoke to Sapnap and... I'm _going_ , Dream, I am, because I want to see you. The, uh, the both of you. But... I need you guys to listen and understand that these boundaries are important to me and I-I need you to respect them."

George was shaking. His words were coming out choked and stuttered, and he wasn't sure he was even being coherent. Nothing he said had reached his ears.

"Of course, Geor-"

"We absolutely wi-"

both Sapnap and Dream stumbled out, their acceptance of George's request leading to the three of them laughing at their haste to answer. It made George's heart lighten a touch, but seriousness clouded his feelings once again, fear seeping in and making his pulse jump.

"Um..."

"It's okay, George," Dream's voice cut in, sounding alert and genuine in George's ears. George shivered, hearing the sleep that still lingered on his breath. He shifted in his chair. Dream continued.

"Take your time. We both want you to be comfortable, and we're absolutely happy to respect the boundaries you want."

The sincerity in Dream's words made George flush in an abnormal way, placing a hand on his face to cover himself from no one. George suddenly regretted not calling Dream earlier. Even though the conversation with Sapnap had been enough to get him to spill his feelings, Dream made him feel safe and accepted and happy, and this instance was no different.

"Thank you, Dream, " He said, much more breathily than he had intended. He blamed it on the stress and the sharp sting in his throat that tried to shut out his own voice. Everything hurt as his thoughts were running rampant, trying to find the right words to soothe his friend's troubles while also keeping himself guarded.

"So, you guys know I like... you know. I like to keep to myself. No, that's- that's not what I meant. I mean, I like having my own space. I like having an apartment to go home to and I can lie down and relax because there are too many people outside and it all gets to be too much. And this isn't saying I don't I like talking to you both, playing Minecraft or editing videos or just talking because that's all we want to do at the time, you know?"

"Right," Sapnap answered George's rhetorical question, giving verbal affirmation to George's preface. The fear in his chest still raged on but George was thankful, although he'd never say it out loud. He stammered on.

"That is the exact opposite of the truth, you guys. But it's so much deeper than discomfort. I mean... fuck, I barely understand it myself." _Too much._ George needed to distance his actual feelings from the tale he weaved to his friends, backtrack and find a different approach. "What I mean is, it's more complicated than that. It isn't just being comfortable in my own space, it's also being extremely uncomfortable when someone else intrudes my space."

George felt too vulnerable. His throat caught and a painful lump started to swell inside, cutting off his spiel for a moment as he took calculated breaths in, slow and heavy. He could control himself. He needed to, or everything would crumble beneath him.

He finally spits out what he was working himself up to say, knowing prolonging it would only make it hurt more. It pained him to even think about it, let alone verbalize it to his closest friends, but he pressed through, talking past the lump and leveling his voice.

"I'm not very comfortable with physical affection. I know I've said it before, but I … truly mean this when I say it. And I know you're both - you know, affectionate people, but it makes me feel..." George trailed off, trying to find the right thing to say. Everything coming out of his mouth was wrong-

"...crowded. Claustrophobic. I know I'm not saying it right. Not good," He tried landing the words with a forced chuckle, but it fell flat and into silence. _God_ , George thought. He wished he could see their faces right now. The conversation was one-sided; George felt like he was speaking to a brick wall. The only confirmation that the others were listening was the gentle breathing from Dream's mic and the squeaking of Sapnap's chair as he rocked in it, fidgeting. At least these last words were genuine, unlike the flood before it. George was just the personification of questions and nerves, discomfort and confusion all balled up into one fucked up man in his 20's.

The silence filling his room was making George go insane. He wanted to rip his hair out, punch something, hang up and sleep for a week, forget the trip.

The speaker through George's headset crackled to life. "George."

The clarity of Dream's voice punched George in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Dream sounded so close to his mic, the volume picking up more on his right than his left, imitating an in-person conversation. He leaned back from his computer instinctually, trying to widen the gap.

"I- George, that is absolutely okay."

Relief flooded through George, waves crashing down his limbs and pouring over his heart.

Sapnap spoke next. "We one-hundred percent respect your boundaries, man. We joke around all the time, but we'd never really want to make you uncomfortable. Not by a long shot."

Worry slowly dissipated from his heart, trickling out and creating a puddle at his feet.

All George could croak out was a small "Really?" before an offended scoff answered.

"Of course 'really', George! Us teasing you about stuff like this is never us being genuine. Surely you knew that?"

George remained silent, dazed as his shoulders were finally able to relax, prying themselves away from his ears.

"Well, it's true," Dream answered in his place, a grin easily detected on his words and George took them in eagerly. "We love you and all that." A soft smile tugged at his lips but he refused to acknowledge the verbal affirmation of affection. That would be too much.

"Is that what had you so worried yesterday?" Dream prodded, and George could hear piqued curiosity underneath the sympathetic question.

"Yes." _Not really_. "I wasn't sure how to deal with it," _No shit_. "but I'm glad I can stop worrying about it now." _Lie Lie Lie _.__

__

__Their conversation didn't last much longer than that, Dream resigning to sleep and Sapnap and George hopping off soon after. His shoulders felt lighter, a weight resigning with a heavy sigh as it sloughed off and hit the ground with a heavy thud. He could breathe easier._ _

__George was going to America. He was going to America to see his loving and equally annoying best friends. Friends who accepted his boundaries with little questions because that's just who they were. Embarrassment crept up his neck and sat jarringly at the top of his spine, bright red and warm to the touch._ _

__Of course they would respect his wishes. They knew George, when to push and when to prod that left them all laughing, and rarely ever overstepped. George pulled his headphones off and spun in his chair lazily, feeling drained from the anxiety that still grasped at his heart._ _

__However, George still felt that angry and unruly guilt bubbling just beneath the surface. The conversation had gone well, sure but George's reasoning for no physical contact was an almost one-hundred percent blatant lie, easily covered by his practiced cool façade. He hated how well he had become at straying from the truth, how easy it was to thread and weave together a story with his poisoned tongue and quick thinking alone._ _

__George couldn't admit it, but he did like physical affection. God knows how many people knew of George's struggle with feelings, his thoughts or emotions getting tangled far before he would be able to admit them. He could rarely vocalize his appreciation for those close to him, but, before his Uni experience, a gentle bump of the shoulder or the clasping of palms let George tell them he loved them. That he cared for them._ _

__His gift took that away from him._ _

__George got dressed. Not that he usually had any plans to go anywhere midday on a Wednesday, but he needed something to do. He needed his hands preoccupied to distract himself from his thoughts, flashing with images of playful toe taps under the table and grabbing scuffed elbows on the playground and brushing a thumb against a smooth strong jaw._ _

__George threw on his jacket, grabbing his phone and shoving it deep in his pocket. He needed to get out. Prepare._ _

__True to his word, George started practicing._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and likes are always appreciated!! Let me know what you think so far! :)


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